Gravity
by swallowedminds
Summary: Takes place a week after 1x10 A Death in the Family. One shot. "I keep chasing you because I don't know how to stop. You-you're...you draw me in and I don't know why, but I know that I can't fight it."


" _Oh, steady me, be my source of gravity."_

 _Stone_ by Alessia Cara

* * *

40 minutes.

He's been standing out here, freezing his ass off, for 40 minutes. The pain in his fingers is beginning to numb and stiff, but he keeps his feet parked in front of the building, won't let a little thing like cold weather make him give up on her.

Beckett made sure he wouldn't be allowed back into the precinct without her permission, so he's waiting for her to leave. A part of him began wondering, about twenty minutes in, if she knew he was out here and decided to wait him out. She means too much to him for him to give up so easy; he'll stand out here all night if he has to.

But then he sees her, scarf around her neck and gloved hands swinging by her sides. All of the pain melts away, the numbness in his fingers subsides. His feet follow her, some unknown pull driving him forward.

Her face is neutral as he watches her, slight hints of relief forming the farther she gets away from the precinct.

He sighs at the sight of her.

This is it. Either he wins her back or he doesn't, but he can't even think about his life if he can't get Beckett to forgive him. She's become such an important person to him; he needs her more than she needs him, so he has to play his cards right here. Whenever he's with her, it's like a switch has been flicked in his mind. She stimulates the parts of him that have been long since dead, allowing for new avenues of inspiration, motivation to be better. He's never met a person who could match him wit for wit and _win_.

This is not something he can afford to screw up.

"Beckett!" he calls, lets the wind carry his voice to gain her attention before she can cross the street. And when she looks up at her name, she stops walking.

Her mouth drops, brow furrows in anger, and _hurt_. It all flashes through her eyes, slashes his confidence, thinking his approach now is a bad idea, and that he should've waited for her day off or for when the sun was up.

No. No. She can't go another day without hearing what he has to say; _he_ can't go another day without letting her know what she does to him.

As long as her eyes are glaring into him, he can't move, can't talk, and before he knows it she's storming off. It's like watching her walk away in the hospital all over again after he told her about her mother's case; she'd listened, kept her eyes glued fiercely to his and when he was done, she ran. Told him that they were done and ran.

He won't let her go this time.

"Beckett, wait!" he yells, jogs to catch up with her as she strides across the street. Castle manages to get his hand around her elbow, and pulls her to face him. "I just want to talk."

Jerking her arm from his grasp, Beckett keeps her face forward, won't dare to even look at him. "There's nothing to talk about." She keeps walking straight, but Castle stays in time with her steps, determined to fix them, whatever it takes.

"You have to at least hear me out, Beckett."

"Don't you get it?" she shouts, finally spinning around to face him, hands shoved in her coat pockets. "You couldn't possibly have more to say. And I'm done listening."

It's the first time their eyes have met in a week. And the soft glow of pain in hers is what encourages him; he can't let her live with this and not know why he did it, not know why he inserted himself into her mother's case.

"Beckett," he whispers, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"What?" she sighs, brow furrowed in anger and lips pinched. "What more could you actually have to say?"

" _I'm sorry."_

She takes a step back, almost mirroring her reaction a week ago, only this time he thinks her interest is piqued. He watches as she sucks in a lungful of air and holds it, her shoulders high, hands still in her pockets.

"I'm sorry." Castle takes a step closer, wants her to see how grave this is. "I invaded your privacy, dug around in something that wasn't my business. After you specifically told me not too. And I'm so sorry. Because now I understand that we can't be done."

Beckett tilts her head, doesn't seem to understand what he's saying.

"You ended our… relationship. And now I understand how… _important_ you are to me. I can't lose you… this."

"What are you saying, Castle? Just spit it out."

"I like you," he exhales, his eyes beginning to crystallize.

"You like me-"

"-yes."

Her brow raises in disbelief and he watches as her puff of breath disappears in the cold air. "I realize now that what I destroyed between us was worth a helluva lot more than trying to be a hero. I'd rather be someone you can respect and _trust_."

Beckett sucks her lip between her teeth, her gaze locked with his. "I don't know what you want me to say, Castle. How can I trust you when you did the one thing I asked you not to?"

"Ever since I met you it's been fireworks in my brain." He laughs because he realizes now how true this is. Every word, every idea, are like explosions in his mind, shooting stars whose wishes always come true. He hasn't _not_ known what to write since he met Beckett, and he's terrified of regressing back into the writer he use to be if she can't forgive him.

"Words are making more sense now, and I've been so inspired," he continues, "I remember why I started writing in the first place. That's because of you. And _I'm sorry_. I'm sorry I pushed where I shouldn't have, but this? Us? It's too amazing to just give it up."

"We're amazing? Castle, you barely know me." Beckett starts walking backwards away from him, shaking her head as she goes, but he raises his voice, hopes to get her to keep listening.

"For some reason, with you, the story gets clearer."

"It's not my job to stroke your ego." She keeps walking, but doesn't put her back to him yet.

He sighs and shakes his head. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what _are_ you saying?" Lifting her hands out of her pockets, she runs her fingers through her hair, and takes another step back to keep some distance.

"I keep chasing you because I don't know how to stop. You-you're...you draw me in and I don't know why, but I know that I can't fight it." He's never been more nervous in his life, but he can't let nerves screw him up right now. It's now or never. "But I'm not ready to let you go, to let the precinct go."

She turns away from him, bows her head to the ground. "Look, Castle it's late. I don't want to talk about this right now."

Right now or _ever?_

"No, Beckett. This can't wait any longer." He takes a small step towards her.

"I'm tired. I want to go home." She begins walking in what he assumes to be the direction of her apartment, angry hands swinging at her sides.

"Just keep listening," he whispers, right before he yells his true feelings, what's really on his heart. "I need you... Beckett."

She halts. Whirls around to face him once again, makes his heart rate shoot up. "What?"

"I do. And I need more time to work with you, more time to get to know you. You keep me in place, you keep my brain working, and that allows me to write. You keep me from floating back off into whatever I was before we met. So, I'm sorry for poking my nose into your business, okay? I'm sorry." He hangs his head, takes a step away from her as he lowers his voice to just a murmur. "That's it. That's all I wanted to say."

Castle swallows, gives her a nod before turning away. It takes about ten steps before she's calling after him, the crisp craft of his name like music to his ears.

He turns, lets his gaze mix with hers. And when one side of her mouth lifts up, he grins, lets out a sigh of relief.

"Do you wanna get a drink?"

* * *

 _Big thanks to the lovely ladies who read over this for me. Maddy, L, and Valen. I'm so grateful for your help. This fic would not have seen the light of day without each one of you :)_


End file.
